


Wedding at the Beach

by katedf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katedf/pseuds/katedf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story takes place a few years after episode 2.8. In my universe, there is no season 3!</p><p>I wrote this for "Celebrations" a while ago. When those ficlets took on their own identity, I pulled this one out to stand alone because it isn't based on a holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding at the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 3.1 airs tonight in the UK. I don't know when we'll get it on my side of the pond, but I wanted to post something happy and fluffy to counteract tonight's sad storyline.

Are you all right?” Richard asked as Camille twisted her spine and rolled her shoulders.”

“Yes, my back’s bothering me a bit. Between the weight and the soft mattress, it’s getting to me.”

“We should get a new mattress. Maybe a new bed. Or a new place to live. I know you love the beach, but…”

“This place is very special to me, but it’s going to be too small. Could we buy it and enlarge it?”

“I don’t know. I suppose we could look into it. Why don’t you sit down while you can? I’ll get you some water.”

“I wish we weren’t doing this today. I feel like a whale. I told Fidel he better not include me in any of the pictures.”

Richard handed Camille a glass of water. “You have to be in the pictures. What would your mother say? It was kind of Fidel to volunteer. It will be a nice change for him, taking pictures of live people for once.”

“At least we can do it here. I know a church wedding is nice, but here on the veranda, by the sea will be lovely. Plus, I won’t have to waddle up a long aisle.”

“You don’t waddle.”

“I will soon. It’s too bad that Father Roget said he couldn’t do the service. But if it’s done by a judge, then why not here?”

“It isn’t his fault. Rules are rules. It was kind of him to agree to do a blessing. You know, the C of E is much more forgiving.”

Camille smiled. She could feel a lecture coming on.

Richard warmed to his subject, “It’s all the fault of those Tudors. If Richard hadn’t lost at Bosworth, the Plantagenets would have kept the throne. I might be RC instead of C of E…”

Camille listened for a while, then she sighed. Richard stopped lecturing and frowned.

“Are you SURE you’re all right?”

“We’re fine, Richard. I’m just cranky and hot.”

“And it will get worse, trust me, I know!” Juliet Best laughed as she bent to hug Camille. She nudged a chair over to Camille and said, “Put your feet up.”

“Hi, Uncle Richard,” said Rosie. “Did you know I’m going to be the flower girl?”

“You look like a bouquet,” he replied, touching her cheek. “I’d give you a hug, but I don’t want to wrinkle your pretty dress.”

Rosie twirled around to show off her dress. Camille watched Richard watching Rosie. He was going to be a doting father. Four years ago, she thought she’d never see him smile about anything but tea and roast beef. And now…

“All right, Chief,” said Juliet. “Out. Bridal party only. Men are gathering under the trees. Dwayne has made wedding punch, go have some.”

Richard looked apprehensive. “Is it as lethal as his other special occasion punches?”

Juliet laughed, “Oh, sir, you are so funny. Haven’t you noticed that the only thing he changes from one occasion to another is the name of the punch? Now go!”

Catherine arrived as Richard was leaving the house. He smiled and said, “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, Richard. Have the flowers arrived?”

“Yes. Drat, there are some for the table and I think I was supposed to take them out. But I’ve been banned.”

“I’ll send Juliet out with them. Is Father Roget here yet?”

“No, but there’s plenty of time. The Commissioner and the Judge are here.” Richard pointed toward the trees. Dwayne made punch, so don’t leave us to our own devices for too long.”

Catherine laughed, kissed Richard lightly on the cheek, and went into the house. As he walked away from the house, Richard could hear the women greeting each other and laughing.

Richard joined the other men. Dwayne pressed a glass into his hand. 

“Here you go, Chief.”

Richard took a sip. Yes, it was the same concoction that served as Birthday Punch, Anniversary Punch, Full Moon Punch, and various other punches. The Commissioner raised his glass.

“To the bride!”

“To the bride!” the men echoed.

“And the groom!” said the Judge,

“To the groom!” came the reply.

There were toasts to the best man, the matron of honor, even the flower girl—Richard wondered if it was really acceptable to toast a minor, but knew better than to interrupt the flow of the merriment. Juliet joined the men.

“They’re ready and Father Roget is here, so let’s go over to the veranda.” As they started to move across the sand, she said sternly, “Leave the glasses here.”

The Judge began giving directions. “Groom there, Best Man next to him, good. The rest of you over there. Best Man, you do have the rings, yes?”

“Yes, I do.”

“All right, then. Selwyn, go collect the bride.”

Somebody started the CD player, and soft string quartet music played. 

Rosie appeared around the corner of the veranda, looking very serious, and scattering flower petals as she walked. She looked adorable with rosebuds in her hair. Fidel took several pictures of her. 

Camille appeared next. From his position near the judge, Richard smiled at her. She looked exotic with yellow orchids in her hair and in her bouquet. Despite her complaints about her size, Richard thought she’d never looked more beautiful. He reminded himself he’d have to tell her that later, and reassure her that she had managed to walk quite normally, not a hint of a waddle.

Catherine followed her daughter. Like Rosie and Camille, she wore flowers in her hair. Hers were white orchids, and loose petals had been scattered into her curly hair.

Rosie took the bride’s bouquet and moved to stand by Juliet. Camille and Catherine squeezed each other’s hands, and then the judge began the ceremony.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together…”

Richard had trouble paying attention. He was lost in looking at Camille, and enjoying the wonder that had become his life. Saint Marie had become his home, and these people had become his family. Some of them, literally. He made himself stop daydreaming and listen to the vows. It was hard to believe he’d recited his own just a little over a year ago.

“Do you, Catherine Rose Bordey take Marc Guillaume Leclère… Do you, Marc Guillaume Leclère take Catherine Rose Bordey…”

Camille smiled, remembering her own wedding on this very veranda. Father Roget hadn’t been happy about a wedding not in church, but when she told him it was that or live in sin and break her mother’s heart, he’d given in. 

Unfortunately, her mother’s divorce made it impossible for the priest to officiate at this ceremony. But Camille didn’t really mind. Her mother was marrying a wonderful man, a chef who had retired from Paris to Saint Marie. He’d discovered the bar, talked Catherine into letting him cook for her, and soon convinced Catherine to make it a partnership on all levels. 

Camille had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when Richard almost dropped the rings. He was cute when he was nervous, no doubt about it. Oddly enough, he was more nervous being Best Man than he had been as Groom. She hadn’t been nervous as the Bride, either. She’d been sure of what she wanted, and she was even more certain now that she’d made the right choice. 

She looked at their little house on the beach. Yes, they should look into buying it and renovating it. She rested her hand on her abdomen. Twenty-some years from now, she’d like to be able to watch their daughter be married on this same veranda.


End file.
